One Hand on the Wall
by danse
Summary: The boys have to go through the labyrinth again to get back home. Missing scene from 1x11, which means spoilers. Arthur/Merlin if you squint. A little.


A/N: I just can't seem to stop. Beware of major spoilers for episode 1x11 in this fic, if you haven't watched it yet.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to the BBC and Shine, not me. I'm making no money from this.

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One Hand on the Wall

_by danse_

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Arthur woke up to the sound of waves crashing. It was awfully chilly for heaven, and he hadn't expected quite so much shouting, either. At last he gathered his wits enough to try opening his eyes and found his manservant filling his field of vision. Apparently this was the source of all the noise. He wondered if he actually had died, or if that wretched old man had been playing silly buggers. Briefly he had the irrational desire to hunt down and beat to death every unicorn in the world.

"Merlin," he finally managed, his voice an undignified croak, "stop _shouting._ I'm right here."

"Oh, thank God," was all Merlin had to say in response. Well, what had he been expecting, an apology? He knew better than that by now, surely.

With Merlin's help, he made it into a sitting position. Blinking to clear away the last vestiges of sleep, he looked around; the table, the goblets, that old bastard with the staff—all gone. They were alone on the shore, them and the waves and the slowly rising tide. "What happened?" he asked slowly and against his better judgement.

Merlin's lips twisted. "After you downed the goblet and passed out, Anhora said it'd just been a sleeping draught. I came over to check on you and then while my back was turned, he vanished and took the table and things with him. You've been out for a little while."

"Hm. Well, let's not sit around all day; time to go back to Camelot and see if we succeeded or not." Arthur struggled to his feet, waving Merlin off this time. He staggered a little when he was fully upright, feeling dizzy, but a couple of deep breaths assured him he wasn't going to faint or anything else embarrassing. As soon as he trusted himself to walk in a straight line, he set off toward the entrance to the labyrinth with his best purposeful stride.

He'd barely made it five steps when he was brought up short by a hand on his arm. "What, Merlin?" He didn't try to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

Merlin let his hand drop and Arthur felt a little bereft as the warmth from his touch disappeared. "Just... it will be dark before much longer. Shouldn't we camp on the beach and set out in the morning, maybe?"

Arthur didn't want to spend another second on this shore if he could help it. "We have no food or blankets with us; would you have us freeze to death? Come on, we can make it through the maze and back to our horses before dark, at least. I'd rather be on the other side of this thing before I sleep. Now let's go." He took Merlin by the wrist and dragged him purposefully toward the labyrinth. Merlin resisted for a second but predictably had jogged up to his side by the time they passed the first hedge wall and were in the cool green shadows of the labyrinth.

"Can I just say, sire," Merlin said, looking around them and up at the sky, "that I am a bit impressed you made it through this thing so quickly on your own. Do they teach you this sort of thing when you're to be king?"

Arthur looked over and saw the grin on his servant's face and couldn't resist the urge to cuff him in the back of the head. "You thought I'd get lost in some dead end and never find my way out again, did you? I'm glad you have so much faith in my abilities."

Merlin flushed red and started stuttering. Arthur rolled his eyes and gestured as he started walking. "Never mind. Let's go; I'm hungry."

It was already much darker than Arthur had anticipated, the sun having dipped below the tops of the hedge walls already, and he squinted a bit in the gloom, glad for the level ground underneath them and the lack of roots poking up from the ground to trip them. After the first turning, Merlin spoke.

"Are you familiar with the lore about labyrinths?" he asked.

"We're not exactly virgin sacrifices, are we Merlin?" Arthur responded. Although, frankly, he didn't think he wanted to know that sort of detail about his servant.

"Yeah, no, that's not what I was referring to," came the retort. "I mean the trick of getting out of a labyrinth without getting lost," he said.

Arthur was not familiar with this. He waited for Merlin to fill the silence as he invariably did.

"Well, er, the trick is apparently to keep one hand on the wall. Then you can always find your way out."

"One hand on the wall?"

"Yes, one hand touching it, all the time." Merlin demonstrated by reaching up to trail his fingers along the ferny leaves beside him. "If you don't let go, you won't get lost."

"Hm," Arthur grunted in response. He put his hand on Merlin's shoulder and left it there, feeling the warmth of body heat, the boniness of his shoulder, and the slightly scratchy texture of his coat under his fingers. "Steady on, then. It's going to be dark before long."

**The End**


End file.
